4

Inside the house, the laughter and conversation continued. The women of the Cáceres family seemed to be carrying on as if nothing had happened, indifferent to Natalia’s suffering. 

Nelly, Simón’s mother, was talking to her sister Celia, her tone as dismissive as ever.

“Who do you think will regret it first?” Nelly asked, casting a quick glance toward the garden door, where she had seen Natalia disappear.

Celia, who was delicately adjusting her shawl, raised an eyebrow and smiled ironically.

“Probably Mrs. Cáceres,” she replied, referring to Natalia in a mocking tone. “Poor fool, she thought she could stand up to Simón. She’s going to regret having defied him. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be alone.”

Nelly let out a cold chuckle and crossed her arms.

“Of course she’ll regret it. They always do. That woman has nothing but hot air in her head. She thought she could tie my son down with her ‘love.’” She said it with utter contempt. “We’ll see how long that bravery lasts.”

 

The two women continued talking amid laughter and malicious whispers, certain that Natalia would soon come crawling back. 

They saw her as a weak woman, a victim who would always depend on Simon to survive.

Meanwhile, Natalia remained in the garden, her body trembling more from the weight of her pain than from the cold. 

She thought about Simón’s hurtful words, about how he had despised her so many times, and yet, despite everything, the love she still felt for him continued to cling to her heart like a poisonous vine.

“I can’t go on like this,” she repeated to herself. “I can’t let them destroy me any further.”

She cried, but somewhere deep down, she knew those tears were the beginning of her liberation.

…

Natalia zipped up the last suitcase with a lump in her throat. The sound of the metal clasp echoed through the empty room, marking the end of an era, a life that had crumbled before her eyes. 

There was nothing left for her in that house, and she knew it. Isabella had been clear when she confronted her, her voice dripping with venom.

“You should have a little dignity and leave,” Isabella had told her, crossing her arms and smiling smugly. “Or… do you want to stay and listen to us having sex?”

Isabella’s words had pierced her chest like a knife, but Natalia had stood her ground. She looked at her with a bitter, ironic smile that hid all the pain she felt inside.

“I’m not surprised by your audacity,” Natalia replied coldly. “You’ve been acting like the slut you are from the very beginning.”

Isabella had let out a cruel little laugh before dropping her real bombshell.

“I’m expecting Simón’s child,” her smile was venomous. “I suppose that makes you an ex-wife before your time.”

Natalia’s heart skipped a beat when she heard those words. A child?

She felt as if the world were crumbling beneath her feet, but she kept her composure. Without saying another word, she left Isabella in the living room and went upstairs, looking for Simón in his office.

When she found him, he was sitting behind his desk, reviewing some documents. Without looking up, he greeted her coldly.

“What do you want now, Natalia?” he asked; his tone was so distant it made her feel like an intruder in her own home.

She took a breath, struggling to maintain control.

“Isabella told me she’s expecting your child,” the words barely came out of her throat. “Is it true? How long have you been sleeping with her?”

Simón looked up for a moment; his eyes showed no trace of emotion.

“That’s none of your business,” he replied indifferently. “And I suggest you leave.” At least I’ve been kind enough to pay for a hotel for you, so you won’t freeze on the streets like a vagrant.

The pain of his words pierced her, but in that moment, Natalia felt something different: strength.

A cold, controlled rage took hold of her, and the tears she had been holding back could no longer be contained. She looked at him with disdain.

“How thoughtful of you, Simon,” she said sarcastically. “So the real reason for your sudden request for a divorce is that child you’re expecting with Isabella?” she asked, feeling the contempt seep from her lips. “Was she always the one you wanted?”

Simon stared at her, unmoved.

“I always held out hope of having a family with Isabella,” he admitted, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Those words cut her deeply, but instead of breaking her, they filled her with determination. 

“It’s over,” she thought. She wasn’t going to let him keep humiliating her; she wasn’t going to let that man reduce her to ashes. Not anymore.

“Don’t worry, Simón,” she finally said, with a coldness that surprised even her. “I’ll leave tonight so you can enjoy your lover in peace.”